The Casebook Of Dr Steigenberger, StarCraft Shrink
by Hyperactive Hamster Of Doom
Summary: Dr Steigenberger is just an ordinary psychiatrist with only the occasional weird patient to treat. But then the StarCraft characters decide they need therapy... Can the good doctor cope? Read and find out! R&R please!


**The Casebook of Dr Steigenberger, StarCraft Shrink  
**by the Hyperactive Hamster Of Doom

**1: Kerrigan On The Couch**

The scene was a stereotypical psychiatrist's office, of the kind you saw in movies. It contained the following: a comfy chair, a brown leather psychiatrist's couch, a bookcase, pot plants, neutral colours, some modern art prints, a view of a city from the window.

And, of course, the stereotypical psychiatrist's office came complete with a stereotypical psychiatrist; a small, skinny man with glasses, a neat brown suit, grey hair and a beard, who was sitting in the comfy chair. His name was Dr Steigenberger, and true to the psychiatrist stereotype so beloved by writers and filmmakers, he had a funny German accent.

Currently sitting on the couch was a worried-looking executive in a power suit, pouring out his thoughts. He was halfway through talking about his traumatic childhood when he was rudely interrupted by the appearance of the stereotypical bimbo secretary. However, this particularly stereotypical bimbo secretary had evidently been through something even more traumatic than the patient's childhood - her hair was messed-up, her clothing had been torn, and there were scratches all over her.

"Uh… Dr Steigenberger?" ventured the secretary.

"Qviet, voman!" exclaimed Dr Steigenberger. "Can't you see zat I haf a patient here already?"

"But Dr Steigenberger, zis - I mean this," the secretary corrected herself, "is important!"

Dr Steigenberger sighed.

"All right, vhat is it?" he said impatiently.

"There's someone here to see you, sir," said the secretary. "A Ms Sarah Kerrigan. She says she's the Queen of Blades and that she's spent the past six weeks in a Zerg cocoon."

"Tell her to make an appointment," said Dr Steigenberger, waving her away. "Und send in zer next patient."

The secretary left the room, looking rather uncertain. Dr Steigenberger turned to his patient.

"All right, Herr Johnson, you may go now," he said.

"But Doc, I haven't told you about my separation anxieties!" cried the patient.

"Separation anxieties? Pfff. Who cares? Zat vill be ten thousand dollars please," said Dr Steigenberger flatly.

"But I've only been here ten minutes! That's extortion!" the patient protested.

"No, zat's my fee," retorted Dr Steigenberger. "You think zat's extortion, zen you should see zer lawyer next door."

"Believe me, I will," said the patient grimly.

"I mean he charges even more zan I do," said Dr Steigenberger.

"Oh," said the patient, taken aback. "Right. You want cash or a cheque?"

"Cheque, please," said Dr Steigenberger.

"What do you think this is, a restaurant? Ha ha! Just kidding, Doc," said the patient, pulling out a chequebook and writing out a cheque, while still chuckling at his own lame joke.

From outside the office came the sound of someone shrieking:

"What do you mean, I have to wait for an appointment! I'm the Queen of Blades, and the Queen of Blades does NOT make appointments! Who's the next patient?"

"I am," volunteered another voice.

This was followed by metallic scraping noises and a bloodcurdling scream. However, neither the psychiatrist or his patient seemed to notice this loud and rather disturbing exchange.

"There you go, Doc," said the patient, handing over the piece of paper. "See you next week."

"Yeah, yeah, vhatever," muttered Dr Steigenberger, pocketing the cheque.

The door had barely shut before it swung open again, revealing the secretary for a second time. On this occasion, she was trembling all over and covered in blood.

"Dr Steigenberger, Ms Kerrigan is here," she said shakily.

"Vhat?" said Dr Steigenberger, frowning. "But Herr Lovell is my next patient…"

"N-not any more, sir," said the secretary. "Ms Kerrigan just tore him limb from limb."

Dr Steigenberger shrugged.

"Oh vell," he said, as if the violent dismemberment of a patient in the waiting room was no concern of his. "Who's next on zer schedule?"

"ME!"

This bold statement was accompanied by dramatic music from an unknown source - Dr Steigenberger noted that it was a marked improvement on the Muzak they kept playing in the waiting room - and then, striding into the office as though she owned it, came Infested Kerrigan, the Zerg Queen of Blades, dripping gore onto the carpet. Trotting obediently behind her was a little pet Zergling on a dog leash.

Dr Steigenberger raised his eyebrows at the sight of his new patient, but said nothing.

"Good afternoon, Ms Kerrigan," he said smoothly. "I had you put down for a later slot, but since Herr Lovell does not seem to be vith us today, I vill be able to see you now. Vould you care to sit down?"

Kerrigan considered this, in the same way that super villains debated whether or not to throw their adversary into the shark tank or the snake pit.

"Yes," she said, after much deliberation. "I believe I will."

She lay down on the couch, letting go of the dog leash as she did so. The little Zergling looked around the room, then hopped up onto Dr Steigenberger's lap and made itself comfortable. Dr Steigenberger looked very, very nervous. He'd heard stories about the Zerglings, mostly from people with fewer than the usual amount of limbs.

"Vhat a - er, delightful pet," he commented. "But isn't it a Zergling?"

"Yes. And?"

"Oh, nothing," said Dr Steigenberger hastily. "Nothing at all. Does it haf a name?"

"His name is Skullcrusher, Devourer of Flesh, Slayer of Thousands," said Kerrigan breezily. "But I call him Rover for short."

"How original," said Dr Steigenberger tartly, then suddenly wished he hadn't opened his mouth as Kerrigan glared at him.

"Was that sarcasm, Doctor?" she said menacingly. "If it was, then I warn you that Rover has not been fed today. And he has a _very_ large appetite."

"Umm… how large?" said Dr Steigenberger cautiously.

"Let me see…" said Kerrigan. She looked thoughtful for a moment. "How tall are you, Doctor?"

Dr Steigenberger began sweating nervously.

"Let's get back to ze consultation, shall ve?" he said hurriedly.

"What a good idea," said Kerrigan, smiling nastily.

"Now, Ms Kerrigan," said Dr Steigenberger, returning to "professional" mode. "Tell me a little about yourself."

"Well," said Kerrigan, "I used to be a Terran Ghost with the Sons of Korhal organisation, but then I was captured by the Zerg and put in a cocoon for six weeks. Now I'm an evil, sadistic, vicious, bloodthirsty Zerg Queen who will stop at nothing to become the ruler of the universe!"

Dr Steigenberger wrote this down, and peered at her over the top of his glasses.

"I see," he said. "Und does zis bother you, Ms Kerrigan?"

"Not really," said Kerrigan, shrugging.

"Oh, yes, it does," said Dr Steigenberger.

"No, it doesn't," said Kerrigan, bristling.

"Yes, it does," said Dr Steigenberger patiently.

"No, it _doesn't_," growled Kerrigan.

"Does too."

"Does NOT!"

"You're blocking."

"No, I'm not!"

"Vell, it's obviously bothering you, Ms Kerrigan, othervise you vould not be killing my other patients to get an appointment vith me," pointed out Dr Steigenberger.

"All right," admitted Kerrigan. "It _is _bothering me."

"Good, you are no longer in denial! Ve are making progress," said Dr Steigenberger pleasantly. "So, how do you feel about zis sudden transformation from human to Zerg?

"Well, I like the whole supreme power thing, and being able to control millions of creatures really appeals to my inner megalomaniac. And I've always liked killing things and blowing stuff up. That's why I became a Ghost."

"Ah, so you haf a very destructive side to your personality, yes?" said Dr Steigenberger.

"Yes. My problem is that stupid Overmind. It's always telling me what to do, and I hate it!"

"So you resent ze Overmind's authoritarianism and its repeated attempts to discipline your inner juvenile delinquent?"

"You bet I do," said Kerrigan. "I mean, it's just a giant eyeball. What's so mighty about a giant eyeball, for goodness' sake? Look at me - Queen of Blades, nasty, vicious, bossy, good at killing things, looks good in black. And then you've got this giant eyeball. What's with that? I mean, I'm much more cool and powerful than the Overmind. So how come _I'm _not leading the Zerg?"

"I… see…" said Dr Steigenberger slowly. This was getting rather too political for his liking.

"And then there's my social life," continued Kerrigan, oblivious to the good doctor's discomfort. "Before all this, I could sit in the Mess Hall with everyone else and talk, drink beer, go uniform-shopping with the girls, go to parties, flirt with Jim Raynor, do whatever, you know? But no-one invites me to parties any more, and the last time I saw Jim he screamed and ran away. And none of my clothes fit any more because of all these blades. I am SO fed up of not being able to find a size to fit in Gap. I won't even mention what I had to do to the sales assistants at Voyage when they wouldn't let me in. "No pets." Hah! Rover showed them, didn't you, Rover? Oh yes you did, didn't you diddums?"

The Zergling squeaked a few times, and Kerrigan tickled it under its chin.

"As for my hair," she continued, "I don't even want to talk about my hair. It's so messy, I can't do a thing with it –"

"I thought you said zat you didn't vant to talk about your hair," said Dr Steigenberger, and immediately regretted it.

"SHUT UP!" shrieked Kerrigan. "DON'T INTERRUPT ME WHEN I'M COMPLAINING, OR I'LL CUT YOU INTO TEENY WEENY PIECES OF ZERGLING CHOW!"

Rover the Zergling growled menacingly on Dr Steigenberger's lap, and the psychiatrist suddenly thought longingly of going back to med school and possibly taking up another line of work that had fewer risks. Rhynadon dentistry, for instance.

"Sorry," he said quickly, "Sorry. Uh, do carry on."

"Anyway," said Kerrigan, placated, "I'm fed up of not being able to get a date. What is it with men these days? I think they just have a problem with dominant women."

"Especially dominant vomen vith blades all over zem," commented Dr Steigenberger, wondering all the while whether this remark would get him disembowelled.

"Exactly," agreed Kerrigan, and Dr Steigenberger breathed out again. "I mean, come _on_, I'm a nice girl. The problem is that no-one ever takes the time to get to know me."

"But Ms Kerrigan," said Dr Steigenberger as gently as possible, "Zer problem is zat you never give people TIME to get to know you. You either slash repeatedly at zem until zey fall down dead, or you order a horde of Zerglings to rip zer heads off."

Kerrigan suddenly looked pensive.

"That's true," she said. "Gee, I guess I never thought of it that way before."

"I think zat you also haf some self-esteem issues, yes?" continued Dr Steigenberger. "You haf trouble finding clothes to fit you, and bad hair days – zat vould bother any voman, especially one who is so much in zer public eye."

"Yeah…" said Kerrigan wistfully.

"I also think zat you are lonely and romantically frustrated, and zat you take out zese feelings on zer rest of zer universe. Haf you tried dating on zer Internet?"

"No," said Kerrigan. "The last time I tried to use the Internet, I electrocuted the whole Zerg Hive, and Cerebrate Zasz just went ballistic. He is _such _a deadbeat. I hope the Dark Templar get him. Besides, Rover ate my modem cable yesterday. I think he's teething."

Rover burped loudly.

"Vhat about zer lonely hearts columns?" suggested Dr Steigenberger.

"No way," said Kerrigan dismissively. "They're for sad, lonely weirdos who don't know how to get a date…"

Dr Steigenberger raised an eyebrow. Kerrigan sighed, and rolled her eyes.

"…and I've already tried them," she added. "No-one seemed to find the idea of dating a Zerg Queen terribly appealing."

"I can't imagine _vhy _zey vould think zat," said Dr Steigenberger, then cursed inwardly as he remembered that Kerrigan didn't take kindly to sarcasm. This time, however, it seemed to have gone over her head.

"Me either," she said. "You know, Doc, you've been really helpful. I feel a lot better. Thanks."

"You're velcome, Ms Kerrigan," said Dr Steigenberger, beaming at the thought that this session would soon be over. "Just remember zat you are an interesting, significant person vith many attractive qvalities, and zat you don't haf to put up vith being bossed around by a giant eyeball."

"You're right, Doc. You're _so _right," said Kerrigan. "I'll remember that. Thanks."

She got up from the couch and whistled for Rover. The Zergling leapt off Dr Steigenberger's lap, to the psychiatrist's immense relief, and went to sit by Kerrigan's feet.

"Hold it," said Dr Steigenberger, suddenly remembering something. "Zere is still zer little matter of my fee …"

Kerrigan glowered at him. This had obviously been the wrong thing to say.

"Rover, be a good little Zergling and chew off the doctor's head," she said to her pet.

The Zergling growled, reminding Dr Steigenberger that he wasn't really that far off retirement age. If he ever got out of this one alive, it was definitely time to start looking at pension plans.

"Um…" said the sweating, terrified psychiatrist, thinking frantically. "Uh - first session free of charge?"

Kerrigan beamed.

"Really?" she said sweetly. "How kind. Thank you, Doctor."

"You're velcome!" cried Dr Steigenberger, almost drunk with relief. "Very, _very _velcome! Goodbye! And if you ever vant another psychiatric consultation, I highly recommend my esteemed colleague Dr Sensemann downstairs!"

Kerrigan nodded and left the room, followed by Rover. When the door closed, Dr Steigenberger finally relaxed. He leaned back in his chair, put his feet up on the couch, and reached for the newspaper.

"Besides," he added to himself, turning to the crossword, "It'll serve him right for sending me zer guy who thought he vas Napoleon…"


End file.
